Cursed Beginnings
by FoxyWombat
Summary: Eventually will be a primarily Day 8 story, but has a bit of Day 7 and other back story thrown in. It's Renee-centric, which means Jack will make his way in as well. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well, this is my first foray into 24 fic and I'm a little nervous. The story's Renee-centric, which of course means that Jack will work his way in as well. It jumps around a bit with the timeline with a little Day 7 as well as Pre-Day 7 and Pre-Day 8, but it's generally going to be a Day 8 with a twist kind of deal. Also, I have an OC, which concerns me because sometimes I drift too much into the OC's perspective out of fear that I won't be able to capture Renee or Jack's voice, so if I do that too much feel free to yell at me (nicely) in reviews.

Disclaimer: I don't own 24 or the characters. I'm just having fun with them.

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**May 2014**

She heard sounds first: distant voices she couldn't make out, the sound of the wheels on a cart, and a steady rhythmic beep. It took her a moment, but she realized that the monotonous tone matched the cadence of a heartbeat – her heartbeat. Gradually, things began to focus and she realized that the sounds she was hearing were those of a hospital. She realized that she hurt – not a stabbing or piercing pain, but the general ache of injuries numbed by painkillers.

"Zoe?"

She must have managed to move something to indicate she was awake and she opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the fluorescent light. Her eyes zeroed in on the face of her fiancé.

"Hey beautiful," he said softly.

"Carson," she croaked out; suddenly aware of how dry her throat was.

"Wait," he reached for a Styrofoam cup next to the bed and pulled out an ice chip. He held it up to her and she nodded slightly, so he slipped it between her lips. "That help?"

"Yeah," she said as the chips began melting in her mouth. "What happened?"

"You needed surgery."

She still couldn't remember. "Why?"

"You were shot."

"I was?"

"Twice," he said and she could hear his voice shaking slightly as he continued, "In the leg and in the stomach."

Zoe searched her memory for anything that related to this, but came up with nothing. It was hazy, but she remembered CTU, the terrorist threat, and a lead about the Russian involvement. "Cars, what happened?"

"You were taken – they wouldn't give me details."

"Taken?" she repeated. Suddenly, memories of a car accident and an old warehouse came rushing back to her and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Zoe?" Carson's voice interrupted her thoughts and she realized that her racing heart was reflected by the now erratic beep on the monitor. "What's wrong?"

"How did I get away?" she asked as a nurse rushed into the room followed by an intern.

"That guy – Bauer." He stepped back to let the doctor next stand closer to the hospital bed. "He got you out."

"Jack?" she repeated softly as it hit her. "Renee. She was with me. What happened to her?"

**

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**May 2009 – 3years, 10 Months before Day 7**

Renee walked into the Lerner Health and Wellness Center and was surprised by the memories that hit her. She hadn't been on GW's Campus since her five year reunion and it occurred to her that her ten year reunion was fast approaching. At the last reunion, she had been eager to catch up with her friends, but this time she was unsure. She hadn't spoken with any of them for the past two years and she had no way of explaining why she pretty much disappeared for 16 months.

Glancing at the undergrads milling about around her, Renee thought of her early morning workouts and how she practically had to drag her roommate along with her. She smiled briefly at the memory and then shook her head, finding it hard to believe that after everything that was where her mind drifted. Honestly, she still could believe that she agreed to do this.

_*Three Weeks Earlier*_

"_You wanted to see me?" Renee asked as she popped her head into Larry's office. It was the end of her first week back in the DC Field Office following the mandated month of leave she had been granted after her undercover assignment_

"_Yeah, close the door."_

_Renee turned around to close the door and rolled her eyes in the process. Larry had been her primary contact the entire time she was undercover, so he was the only person with an idea of the extent of what Vladimir did and even Larry didn't know the full story. Since her return had had been a great friend and supportive without being overbearing, but now she was preparing herself for the dreaded 'don't overdue it on your first week back' speech._

_Smiling a casual smile she sat down in the chair opposite his desk and asked, "What's up?"_

"_This." He handed her a file. "Here."_

_So it wasn't a lecture, she thought as she opened the file. Taking a few seconds to scan it, she realized it was worse. He was coddling her. "You want me to do this? It's a speaking engagement."_

"_It's a day-long retreat for at-risk junior high girls promoting good character and leadership skills."_

"_I'm not saying it isn't a good cause, Larry. I just think you can find someone else to do it."_

"_It's being organized by a student at GW and no one else in the office went there."_

"_She didn't request an alum."_

"_I think you should do it."_

_She sighed in annoyance before continuing, "Look, Larry, I know I can't go back into the field until I complete my final appointment with the shrink, but it doesn't mean I need to do fluffy assignments that are the equivalent of PR crap for the Bureau. I'm more than capable of doing my real_ _job."_

"_I know you can handle your work, Renee, but the student organizing this requested a female agent who would be a role model for the girls – you were the first person who came to mind."_

_Her expression softened slightly, but she refused to give in completely. "And that's the only reason?"_

"_And I think it would be good for you," he admitted. "Help get everything back to normal."_

_The sincerity in his voice told her that he wasn't babying her beyond normal concern, but she still fought him based on principle. Larry wasn't her technical supervisor, but he did have seniority over her so she asked, "Are you ordering me to do this?" _

"_It's on a Saturday, so it's entirely voluntary."_

"_Okay," she said with a nod. "I'll do it."_

_"Good – the contact information's in the back," he said as she stood up. "I told her you'd email her by the end of the day."_

"_Wait, you told her I already agreed? What if I said no?"_

"_I knew you would." He leaned back in his chair and she rolled her eyes before turning to leave. "Hey, are you still coming out for drinks after work?"_

_She paused; her hand on the doorknob. "Don't you have to wife to go home to?"_

"_It's your first week back – people want to celebrate that you survived your assignment at the Portland Field Office."_

_She chuckled at that one. "I still don't understand why it had to be Portland."_

"_We needed people to think you were somewhere no one wanted to visit."_

"_I've been to Portland before – it's not that bad. You should have told them Omaha."_

"_It had to be believable and no one would believe that Renee Walker would spend a year and a half surrounded by corn."_

Renee's thoughts were interrupted by a college student whose dark hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. "Hi, you must be Agent Walker," she greeted. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"I'm happy too." Renee assumed this was the girl with whom she had been emailing. "Are you Zoe Lessaris?"

"Zoh," she corrected the pronunciation, limiting it to a single syllable. "It's short for Zofia, but I added the 'e' because I got sick of spell check never recognizing it," she explained in a rush. "It's nice to meet you, Agent Walker."

"Same, and call me Renee."

"Sure thing," she said with a smile. "Now, if you'll follow me, I'll explain the schedule for today."

As Zoe explained the day's events, Renee couldn't help but study her. Other than exchanging a few emails, they never met and, yet, the girl and her mannerisms seemed familiar. Renee shook it off, deciding that any familiarity she sensed was the result of being back on at her alma mater and the hyperawareness she couldn't seem to shake after being undercover for so long.

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A/N: So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Has potential? Should I drop the idea? Honestly, tell me. I'm going to try and get the next chapter up by the end of the week if I can. :)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you all of the wonderful reviews. I'm still a little nervous throwing my stuff out there when there are so many great fics out there, but thanks to you all, I'm not going to quit. Although, I probably won't be able to keep up with this daily posting thing much longer…

Disclaimer: I don't own 24 or the characters. I'm just having fun with them.

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CHAPTER TWO…

**April 2014 – One Month before Day 8**

Chloe had been back at CTU for a total of six hours when a crisis broke out. It was nothing compared to what had happened thirteen months ago, but it was still enough to get all hands on deck. In the past fifteen minutes a steady trickle of agents filtered through the bullpen dressed in casual street clothes as they made their way to the locker room to change. To Chloe, they were all nameless faces that seemed to merge into one as she thought of all the faces she was used to associating with CTU.

There was one agent that seemed familiar, but Chloe wasn't sure if it was simply a matter of the young woman standing out from rest. She had arrived later than most of the agents and strode into the bullpen wearing a strapless yellow georgette dress with a metallic detail and a pair of jeweled sandals with three inch heels. She headed straight for one of the few agents Chloe had already met: Cole Ortiz – CTU's head of field ops and current hot shot – who was talking with Arlo Glass, the drone operator she had quickly learned to dislike.

"Arlo, Agent Ortiz," she greeted the pair.

Taking in her appearance, Cole asked, "How much am I going to owe Carson for calling you in tonight?"

"We must have interrupted one hot date," Arlo added.

She ignored Arlo and looked at Cole as she spoke. "It was one of his mother's cocktail parties, so I owe you," she said, getting him to laugh. "How long until the briefing?"

Cole checked his watch. "Four and a half minutes."

"Good, I have time to change."

"You can stay in the dress," Arlo said as he not-so-subtly looked her up and down. "You know, until after the briefing ends."

"Or not." She rolled her eyes as she turned to leave. When she was no more than a few feet away, she called over her shoulder, "Stop staring at my ass, Arlo."

Four minutes later, Chloe watched the same agent, now dressed in mission blacks, rush into the conference room and slip into an empty chair next to Cole and in front of where Chloe was standing.

"Cutting it kind of close," he told her.

"But I made it," she countered as she began rapidly pulling the bobby pins that were holding her half-up hair in place. When the pins were out, she dropped them in the pocket of her jacket.

"You going to bring them into the field?"

"You'll be asking for them if you drop your lock pick again," she said, referring to an incident from her first operation with him at CTU.

"One of the targets knocked it from my hand."

"And I knocked him out and gave you a substitute."

"You saved the day," he said with a slight teasing tone.

"Yes, I did," she said as she ran her hands through the messy curls of her hair before tying it back in a low ponytail.

"And so modest."

"Carson thinks it's cute," she said as she scrunched her nose. "Besides, you're one to talk, big-shot."

"Dana thinks it's cute," he echoed.

"Ha-ha," she whispered as Hastings walked into the room.

The briefing was short and Chloe spent most of the five minutes studying the back of the agent's head. She listened to Hastings, but having worked on the data analysis she had a good grasp on the details. When the briefing ended, Chloe watched Cole say a few words to the female agent before leaving the room. Chloe watched her stand up, turn around, and look right at her.

When surprise registered on the woman's face, Chloe recognized her. Her hair had changed from the near-black shade she remembered to a light brown with what seemed to be natural strawberry blond highlights, but it was definitely Zoe.

"Chloe, hi," she began as she approached her. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm…"

"Zoe Lessaris," Chloe finished.

"Yeah, wow. We only spent a few hours together a year ago, so I wasn't sure."

"The hair threw me."

She brushed a stray lock behind her ear. "Decided to go back to my more natural color."

"It works for you – your old color was too dark," Chloe said bluntly. "For your skin tone," she added hastily.

"Yeah, it clashed with the freckles," she agreed.

"You left the FBI?" Chloe asked before they could fall into an awkward silence.

"My fiancé had to move to New York and the FBI said it was too soon for me to apply for a transfer, so CTU was my best option," she explained. "What brings you back?"

"Morris – my husband – lost his job almost a year ago and we needed more than random consulting jobs to pay the bills," Chloe told her. "So here I am."

"Well, I realize we don't really know each other but I know you're good, so I'm glad you're here."

"Uh, thanks."

"I have to go join the TAC Team, but we should grab coffee some time. Get to know each other better, and I can give you the dirt about this place."

"Sure."

"See you later," Zoe said as she headed to the door.

Chloe gave her a half wave as she left; not entirely sure what to make of Zoe. "Bye."

* * *

Renee woke up with a start as her cell phone chirped loudly from where she had dropped it on the coffee table next to the couch. She hadn't intended to fall asleep when she lied down that afternoon, but apparently exhaustion beat out the insomnia. It didn't really matter to her because it's not as if she had anywhere she needed to be that evening anyway. Flipping the phone open, she answered without checking the caller ID. She rarely got calls, so there wasn't any need.

"Walker," she said into the phone as she got up and walked to her apartment's small kitchen where she grabbed a pen and a pad of paper she kept next to the coffee maker. "They need me in two hours?" she asked as she jotted down an address on the pad. "Yeah, I'll be there."

For the past five weeks Renee had been doing freelance security work through a service that loosely functioned like a substitute teacher program for security workers. The jobs were random and simplistic – nothing compared to the complex operations she was capable of planning and running at FBI – but they paid enough to cover her rent. Additionally the irregular scheduling of jobs gave her a convenient excuse to explain away her erratic sleep patterns.

Rummaging through her freezer, Renee pulled out a frozen burrito and popped it in the microwave. She wasn't hungry, but it was after 9pm and she skipped dinner and was about to cover an 11-7 shift at a bank, so eating something felt like the responsible thing to do. With five minutes left to cook, she went into her bedroom and changed into something more work appropriate than the sweats she currently wore. Walking into the bathroom, she inspected her appearance. Renee had showered following her afternoon run, but her hair was a disaster from air-drying during her unplanned nap.

Not caring what others would think, she pulled her hair into a messy bun and picked up her eyeliner. The first time she put on the heavy eyeliner, it was the result of having no other make-up on hand and she had felt a little like an angst-ridden teenager rebelling against her parents, but after putting it on she grew to like it. Not only did the darkness against her fair skin help mask the tired bags under her eyes, but it also gave her an edgy look that kept conversations short and prevented others from engaging with her at all.

Dropping the eyeliner back in the drawer, Renee returned to the kitchen, pulled the burrito out of the microwave, and set it on a plate. She began picking at the burrito and flipped through the small stack of mail she had brought up earlier. Setting aside the electric bill, she absently looked through an ad for Bed Bath and Beyond, which she continued to get even though she had not set foot in the store since she picked up a few essentials there when she first moved to New York months before..

She tossed advertisement toward the end of the table and a card-sized envelope addressed to 'Ms. Renee Walker' in embellished dark-pink script slipped it out. Not recognizing the name on the return address, she ripped open the envelope and pulled out a card that was tied closed with a dark pink ribbon. Untying it, she opened the flaps and small pile of pink and green shiny confetti spilled into her hand. _You're Cordially Invited to a SURPRISE Bridal Shower for Zoe Lessaris._ Dropping the confetti into her napkin, Renee stood up and threw it along with her half-eaten burrito into the trash. She almost threw the invitation in as well, but hesitated a moment before tossing it into the kitchen drawers to the left of her refrigerator

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A/N: Reviews are like drugs for me. I feel like there are worse addictions, so indulge me, please.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here's the next little part. I want to warn that the application process I reference isn't totally legit. It's pretty close, but I took some liberties. Happy reading!

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CHAPTER THREE…

**January 2012 – One Year and Two Months before Day 7**

"I've got the Renwick file for you," Renee said as she walked into Larry's office, giving a cursory knock on the doorframe as she did.

"Your report's on top?" he asked; even though he knew it would be.

"Mmhm," she said with a nod. "Once you sign off on it we can pass it along to Justice."

"Good. Thanks." When she lingered in his office, he asked, "Is there anything else?"

"Zoe's coming by the office at the end of the day."

When Larry had suggested the speaking engagement at GW, he did so in hopes of getting Renee out of her apartment. Her first week back in D.C. had been spent recuperating in her apartment, which was necessary. However, during the following four weeks, when she was more or less physically healthy again, she barely left the place and he was fairly certain that his visits were the only time she talked to anyone who wasn't a store clerk, delivery guy, or the FBI shrink.

When she returned to work, she appeared fine to everyone else but Larry could tell she was still struggling. Larry had thought that spending the day with pre-teen girls would help her reconnect with life outside of the world of the Russian Syndicate and he was right; he just never predicted that Renee would become a friend and mentor to Zoe.

"You mentioned that," he said casually.

"I can't decide whether to have Taco Bell waiting for her or not."

He smirked slightly, knowing what she was getting at. Taco Bell was their favorite comfort food, even though both of them readily admitted that the fast food chain's tacos were far from authentic and often poor in quality. "You know I can't look up whether Zoe got an appointment or waitlist letter."

She sat down across from the desk. "You're Special Agent in Charge now, Larry, so technically you can."

"Renee…"

"You know she's dying to get into the Academy and has been freaking out about this letter all week. If she opens that envelope and is on the waitlist, she's going to be crushed and I need to be prepared."

"Zoe was one of the top interns during her Honors Internship two years ago and has majors in International Affairs and Computer Science with minors in Spanish and Russian; she is incredibly qualified."

"We're coming out of a year-long hiring freeze, so the entire applicant pool is incredibly qualified."

"Just get her the Taco Bell."

Her eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"That I'm not breaking regulations to check her applicant status and that she'll want to eat that greasy crap either way."

"Fine." She stood up. "Don't forget we have the briefing on Atkins at 3pm."

"I won't."

* * *

Walking into the reception area, Renee could tell Zoe was nervous even though she probably didn't appear so to others. Zoe was seated on a couch with a textbook on her lap and appeared calm – except for the fact that every few seconds she moved to tuck her hair behind her ear even though it was not out of place. It was a tell and one of the many little things she had learned about Zoe over the past three years. They talked about 'big' things too, but it was the insignificant stuff she knew about Zoe and was certain Zoe knew about her that made her smile, like how Zoe always set her alarm for an odd number whereas Renee always set hers on an even and how they both put skim milk in her coffee just to lighten the color and not because they couldn't drink it black.

"Hey," Renee said and Zoe all but jumped up from her seat. Yeah, she clearly was nervous.

"Hey."

"Were you waiting long?"

"Not really."

Renee looked at an envelope sticking out of the textbook. "Is that it?"

"Yes." She pulled out it and looked at it. "It's small, isn't it?"

"It's the size of a letter."

"It's pretty thin."

"Come on," Renee threw her arm over her shoulder. "Let's go to my office."

They walked the short way to the office in comfortable silence and when they walked in, Zoe immediately smelled overly processed Mexican food. "Why is there Taco Bell on your desk?" She looked at Renee suspiciously. "Do you already know what the letter says?"

"No," she said quickly. "It's just dinner."

"Okay."

She handed her a letter opener. "Here."

Zoe ripped a neat slit in the envelope, but froze when it came time to pull out the letter. "I can't do it." She shook her head and thrust the envelope at Renee. "Will you?"

Renee opened the letter and kept her face blank as she read it silently to herself. Without saying anything she went to hug Zoe, who just stood there stiffly.

"Why are you hugging me? Is it bad? Renee, what did it say?"

Renee pulled back from the hug and handed the letter to Zoe. "You tell me, Agent Lessaris."

She watched with a smile as Zoe took the letter with shaking hands and read the words for herself. Seeing the girl's excitement, she was hit with memories of her reaction when she received her own Conditional Letter of Acceptance ten years before.

"So I'm in?"

"You're in," Renee said Zoe responded with an exuberant hug. "Provided you don't fail the physical fitness test."

"Well, one of my goals was to become the half-ton college senior," she said as she pulled back from the hug. "But I can put off my fat kid dreams for a bit longer I suppose."

Renee laughed. "Good."

"I still can't believe it."

"Believe it," Renee told her as there was a knock on the door. She went over and opened it to find Larry standing there.

"So?" he asked Zoe.

"I'm in."

"Congratulations!" he said, pulling a small bouquet of flowers out from behind his back.

"Thanks Larry – I mean Agent Moss," she corrected as she took the flowers.

"You're not at Quantico yet – you can still call me Larry."

"But I expect you to call me Agent Walker from here on out," Renee added seriously.

"Schwhatever, Walker," she responded with a teasing lilt in her voice.

"Hey!" Renee said in a warning tone before smiling as well. "Now get your phone and call your dad. I'm sure he's dying to here the news."

"Oh my God, you're right."

"I'll be in Larry's office, so come find me when you're done," Renee told her.

"Okay."

Once they were in the hallway, Larry asked, "So we're going to my office?"

"Yes."

"Most people wait for their boss to invite them," he said; holding open the door for her to walk inside.

"Most bosses don't lie."

"What?"

Renee crossed her arms and glared at him. "You knew she got in."

"Yes," he admitted.

"Was it before or after I asked you about it?"

"Before."

"Ass," she muttered, knowing he still could here her.

"I wanted you to be surprised too."

Renee had to admit he had a point; the build-up to the big reveal was fun, but she sure as hell wasn't going to tell him that. She continued to glare at him until he reached under his desk and pulled out a second bouquet of flowers. "You bought me flowers in an attempt to make up for lying to me?"

"No."

"Then why?"

For a moment, she worried about what he would say. Things between them were complicated, and even though they both knew they were more than just coworkers or good friends, Renee steadfastly refused to acknowledge it. The fact he was now her supervisor complicated the issue, but it was Amber – Larry's ex-wife of six-months – who stopped her. No matter how hard she tried, Renee couldn't shake the memory of the things the woman said when she showed up at FBI hurling accusations about their alleged affair. She also couldn't forget the dirty looks she got from her married female coworkers in the weeks the followed.

"For everything you've done for Zoe," he explained and she breathed a silent sigh of relief. "It's your support that helped her get where she is."

"Larry, you're acting like I'm her mother."

"I'd have gone with older sister," he said. "You've really been good for her. You helped get her here."

"She'd have gotten in with or without me," she argued.

"Renee, can you just accept a compliment and take the flowers?"

"Okay," she took them, gave it a small sniff and smiled. "Thank you."

**

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**May 2014 – Day 8, 6:00-7:00pm**

"Is something wrong, Agent Lessaris?"

At the sound of Jack's voice, Zoe realized that she had been staring at him. She had tried to keep her focus on the walls of the mission van, but apparently her gaze had drifted back to him. "You remember me, Mr. Bauer?" she asked in surprise. While she recognized him, she had not expected him to remember her.

"You were a Special Agent in the DC Field office."

"Yes, I was."

"You left the FBI?"

"I needed to relocate to New York and CTU was able to accommodate me where the Bureau couldn't."

He nodded in understanding, before repeating his earlier question. "So, is something wrong?" When she didn't respond immediately, he added, "You were staring."

"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly. "I just can't help feeling this sense of déjà vu – you showing up and then all hell breaking loose."

He responded with a half smirk and she continued, "And I know there's no real connection between you and the assassination attempt on President Hassan, but seeing you here…" she trailed off with a shake of her head. "I can't help but wonder what the destruction will be like this time."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This one's all post Day-7 this time as opposed to last chapter's "Renee/Zoe: The Early Years" theme. Also, I've decided that in 8x04 when Chloe references what Renee's been doing since Day 7 that she said "securities" firm and not "security." Now, I haven't overly analyzed what Chloe says, but that's what it sounds like to me. Plus, in my mind it makes more sense for Renee to have broken away from anything close to her FBI work immediately following things in an effort to "be normal" again and if she can pretty much run FBI, then she can do securities/business work. And I realize I said she's doing free-lance security work two chapters ago, but it works with my timeline. You just have to patient.

And I'm done rambling. Thanks for the reviews and happy reading!

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CHAPTER FOUR…

**May 2014 – Day 8, 7:00-8:00pm**

Renee gave each of the agents a cursory glance as they walked in. After her conversation with Jack – seeing how he doubted her – Renee was more certain than ever that she needed to do this mission. When it was over and they'd successful recovered the rods, she'd show Jack, the FBI, and everyone else that she was capable of serving her country. And maybe she'd somehow manage to convince herself the same thing.

When the final agent slipped into the room, Renee didn't pay her any attention. Whoever she was, she kept her head down and sat slightly behind the Hispanic agent – Ortiz or Ortega, she hadn't paid attention. Her focus was on the operation and when Hastings nodded for her to begin she went straight into her briefing. Renee was all focus and intensity while she went through the background information on her undercover assignment. She knew that the fast she talked and the more details she willingly provided, the fewer questions would be asked about what actually happened while she was under.

By the time she proposed the idea of a buyer she could tell that Hastings was sold on the deal. She didn't know much about him, but based on the man's quick offer to return her badge, she knew he was desperate to resolve the rod situation before it became an international crisis.

"Who's that going to be?" Hastings asked in response to her statement about the need for a buyer. "Agent Ortiz, are you up for this?"

"Yes, sir," he said with a nod. "Agent Lessaris can coordinate the Tac Teams."

Renee's head snapped up and she focused at the agent she had been ignoring. It was Zoe. First Chloe, then Jack, and now Zoe. She she began to wonder if this whole thing was part of one of those TLC reality shows she watched when she couldn't sleep. She wanted to laugh at the insanity of it all, but there was something about Zoe's presence at CTU that bothered here even though she couldn't articulate why.

**

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October 2013 – Seven Months after Day 7, Seven Months before Day 8**

When Zoe put the number in her phone, she had no intention of ever calling it. In the beginning of September she found an envelope with a New York return address in her mailbox. The only thing inside was a business card for a well-known securities firm with Renee's name and email address on the front. The cell number had been scrawled hastily on the back, but Zoe had opted to use the email address – it felt safer, less confrontational.

For nearly eight weeks it had sat untouched in her contacts list, but on an impulse she scrolled through, highlighted Renee's name, and hit send.

"Walker."

Hearing her voice, Zoe fought the sudden urge to hang up as she wondered why she even dialed. The emails were enough, but the phone call was pushing it. "Hey, it's Zoe."

"Is something wrong?"

"No," she said quickly. "Um, I just got engaged." Her statement was met with silence, so she started to backtrack, "Look, I'm sorry; I shouldn't have…"

Renee cut her off, "No, it's fine. I… congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Carson?" she guessed.

Zoe was surprised she remembered his name; they had only been dating a few weeks before – well – that day. "He proposed a few minutes ago."

"And you're on the phone with me?"

"He's in the shower."

There was another awkward silence as Renee struggled to remember what normal people would say in this situation. "How'd he ask?"

"He's been away on business this week and wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow. There was a knock on the door and I expected trick-or-treaters but opened it to find him on one knee. Kind of cheesy, I know, but…"

"No, it's sweet."

"I thought so." Zoe bit her lip as they fell into a brief silence. "So, um, how have you been?"

"Fine – you?"

"Been busy with work – your replacement sucks – so does Larry's." As soon as the words left her mouth Zoe regretted them. "I'm…"

"Hypercrtical?"

She breathed a sigh a relief. "No I'm not."

"Alvarez isn't that bad."

"Well, no – but I could do a better job than Jorgen."

"Jorgen?" Renee said and Zoe could here the surprise in her voice.

"Yeah."

"You probably could," she agreed.

"Thank you."

"But you're still hypercritical."

"You suck."

"That's mature."

"Whatever," Zoe said with a smile, because for that one moment it felt like before.

"Yeah." She paused briefly before continuing, "Look, Zoe, I have to go – I've got work."

"Okay."

"I'm glad you called."

"Me too, but – um – I won't make a habit of it. I mean, if you don't want me to."

There was a short silence on the line.

"You can," she said finally.

Zoe smiled. "Okay."

"Okay," Renee repeated. "Go celebrate with your fiancé."

"He's in the shower."

"I'm aware," she said dryly.

"Renee!"

"Goodbye Zoe."

"Bye."

**

* * *

May 2014 – Day 8, 7:00-8:00pm**

Zoe had tried to get Renee alone after the briefing, but it just had not been possible. She was about to leave CTU, so her only opportunity was to approach her as she walked through the hall with Jack.

"Renee."

Her voice caused the pair to stop and turn around. Jack looked at her with the expectation of news about the operation, but Renee stiffened, so Jack hung back but watched the exchange carefully.

"Zoe," she said, taking a couple steps towards her.

"How are you?" Zoe asked.

"Fine," Renee answered quickly. "What are you doing here?"

Zoe looked at her in surprise. She thought the briefing made that pretty clear. "I work here," she said as she tapped the orange CTU emblem on her black jacket.

"The job in New York."

Zoe smirked slightly. "So you do read them."

"Didn't recognize the return address."

"Of course." She rolled her eyes and then changed the subject, although she wasn't sure what to say so she just stated the obvious, "I'm still running one of the TAC Teams with Agent Ortiz – I thought you should know."

"Okay."

"Are you…" she began to ask of Renee was up for this but she trailed off at the look in her eyes, which confirmed that she probably wasn't.

"What?" Renee asked and Zoe could tell that she was daring her to engage so that she could shoot down her concern.

"Nothing." Zoe didn't take the bait. It wasn't worth it. "Just be safe, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Renee turned around and muttered a 'let's go' to Jack, leaving Zoe alone in the hallway. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry about the delay. Real life's been crazy. I'm a bit nervous about this one, there's less dialogue and a lot of "thinking" so I hope that what I'm trying to do come across at least half-way decently. Again, thank you everyone for the reviews! I love reading what you have to think (good and bad).

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE…

**January 2014 – Four Months before Day 8**

Zoe had been in New York for a total of five days and it already was driving her crazy. It wasn't the city that was the problem. D.C. still came first in her heart, but she loved the people, the noise, and the vibrancy of New York. She even liked her new job, even though the Director underestimated her abilities, she felt at home at CTU:NY. What she didn't like was moving into and decorating an Upper East Side condo to meet the tastes of her soon-to-be mother-in-law.

When they moved to New York, she had known that Carson's family was part of the package – after all, they moved so that Carson could manage the family's real estate business following his grandfather's death – but she had not anticipated just how intense Citrine could be when she lived less than a block away. Growing up in a working-class family, Zoe's concept of decorating consisted of tent sales at the furniture store and garage sales, so even with the Lloyd family budget she stayed economical, which was sacrilegious to Carson's mother.

So in the midst of a discussion about window dressings between Citrine and their interior designer, Zoe faked a work emergency and headed out the door, shouting to the designer that she preferred the eggplant valance as she left. In the elevator, she pulled out her phone and looked up directions to the nearest shooting range.

**

* * *

March 2011 – Two Years before Day 7**

Renee sat in her car squinting into the late afternoon sun as she watched students stream out of one of GW's buildings. Her engine was idling because the Traffic & Parking guy had tapped on her window when she had turned off the engine a few minutes before. She had thought about pulling up her badge, but decided it wasn't worth the effort and just turned the car back on while explaining that she was picking up a student. She finally spotted a girl with a dark ponytail, rolled down her window and shouted, "Yo Lessaris!"

The girl jogged over, and leaned into the window. "Renee?"

"Happy Birthday."

"Thanks. What are you doing here?"

"Taking you out."

"I can't."

"It's your birthday – get in the car."

"I'm celebrating this weekend."

"Will you just get in the car before Parking Guy gets on my ass again?"

"Fine." Zoe opened the car door and slid into the seat. "What'd you do?"

"Turned off my engine."

"But this is a no parking zone!" she gasped dramatically.

"So I was told," Renee said dryly as she faked a smile and waved at Parking Guy.

"Where are we going?"

"Birthday surprise."

"Thanks, really, but I have a paper due Friday and Russian quiz tomorrow."

"It's your 21st birthday."

"Did you not just hear me?" Zoe asked. "I'd love to go out with you and I appreciate this, I really do, but I can't go out for drinks"

"I'm not taking you to a bar."

"You're not?"

"Just because it's your birthday, it doesn't mean I'm getting you drunk."

"But I'm twenty one now."

Renee glanced over at her. "So you have time for drinks now?"

"Well, no but…" she trailed off. "Where are you taking me?"

She turned the car into a parking lot. "Here."

"What's here?"

Renee smiled as she shut off the engine. "Shooting range."

**

* * *

January 2014 – Four Months before Day 8**

The shooting range had been a suggestion from his therapist. She had called it a form of occupational therapy. Jack had responded that guns would not be any part of his future occupation. She had politely, yet firmly, explained that it was not a question of relearning how to work with a weapon but about testing his reflexes, coordination, and depth perception, so he somewhat reluctantly had agreed.

Jack had just emptied a round into a neat cluster at the center of his target when he felt someone watching him. Even after months of treatment and rehab, Jack knew that his instincts – like his ability to handle weapons – were as strong as they had ever been. He turned around slowly, his motions casual but calculated. The muscles in his arm twitched slightly as he subtly scanned the room.

He spotted her just as she looked away from him and he immediately recognized her. Her hair was lighter but it definitely was Zoe Lessaris, the young FBI Agent whom Renee had trusted implicitly. Turning around quickly, Jack reloaded his weapon and stepped back up to the firing line. With each pull of the trigger, he pushed his memories of that day – and Renee Walker – to the back of his mind.

**

* * *

May 2013 – Two Months after Day 7**

Emptying her clip into the target, Renee was surprised when she felt nothing. The firing range had always been a place of solace for her – a refuge from the real world – but for the first time it failed to relax her. It failed to make her feel anything.

She had thought getting the information out of Wilson would make things better – restore some semblance of order to her world. She had thought she would feel relief when she got the names out of him and that everything that had happened that day – everything she had done – would feel justified. Instead, she felt nothing. Later, when she was thirty hours into the seventy-two hour period she spent in the FBI holding cell, she realized with horror that she hadn't even felt regret or pity as the paramedics rushed Wilson's unconscious form from the room.

An Assistant Director from FBI – one who previously had praised Renee for her skills as an agent – delivered the news that she had been pardoned by President Taylor based on her earlier actions on behalf of the country and the 'extreme emotional stress' she had been under when 'the incident' had occurred. The next thing he did was slide a piece of paper across the metal table. It was a pre-written letter of resignation with the stated reason of 'internal dispute' neatly typed on FBI Letterhead and waiting for her signature.

Eleven years with the FBI ended with her wordless signature and the Assistant Director brusquely telling her that her personal affects would be delivered to her apartment and that the FBI counseling services would be available at her request. When the box arrived at the apartment the following day she shoved it in the back of her closet – ignoring it like the rest of the world. For the next few weeks she subsisted on take out and vodka from the liquor store down the street. A part of her knew she shouldn't be drinking but it was the only way she could overcome the insomnia and catch a few hours of sleep before the nightmares set in.

The pattern was broken that morning when her phone range. Seated on the couch, Renee made no move to answer it assuming it would be Janis or Zoe checking up on her. Except a single message from Kim Bauer saying that the treatments were working and that it would be a long road, but Jack was going to live, they were the only people who ever called and even those were becoming less frequent, so she was surprised to hear Jack's voice.

_Renee, it's me. I know Kim called you a few weeks ago, but I wanted to do it myself. I… I know what it's like. I… just call me, okay?_

After rattling off his number, he ended the call and Renee got up and picked up the phone, but stopped herself as she started to dial. What would she say to him? He'd spent the last two months fighting back from what everyone thought was certain death. What had she'd done beyond develop quite the rapport with Marty at the liquor store? She couldn't call him – not now, not while her life was such a mess. She needed to do something or at least get out of her apartment, so she showered, got her personal weapon, and headed to the shooting range.

It was less than twenty minutes at the shooting range before whatever determination she felt to 'take her life back' after Jack's call began to fade, so Renee packed up her stuff and got ready to leave. She was about to get into her car when a voice stopped her.

"Renee."

It was Zoe, so she reluctantly turned around.

"Hey."

"Hi," Renee responded stiffly.

"I tried to call you."

"My phone's been on the fritz," she lied. "Sorry."

"Oh, well, do you want to go grab coffee?" Zoe asked and when Renee hesitated, she continued forcefully, "We can go to the place around the corner, with the chocolate scones."

Mentally Renee listed all the things she would prefer over chocolate scones with Zoe. "Don't you have work?"

"Lunch break – I was going to get some practice in."

"Then why aren't you at the FBI range?"

She tapped her shoulder lightly. "My doctor won't clear me from desk duty for another two weeks, so I'm not authorized to use the range."

It took Renee a moment before she remembered. Zoe had been shot in her right shoulder by Hillinger. It hadn't been too serious and she was back working a few hours later with a sling on her arm. Renee tried to think about had been doing when that had happened. Hillinger was the one who sent out the false arrest warrant for her and Jack when they were tailing Dubaku's car. Before she could stop it, Renee felt as if she was back in the intersection, trying to get Marika out of the burning car. She could feel her heart racing.

"But I'm completely fine," she continued as she swung her arm as proof. "So, coffee?"

"I can't." Renee said; hoping she wouldn't sense her anxiety. "I have somewhere to be."

"But..."

"I have to go Zoe." She started getting into her car. "I'm sorry."

Renee drove a block before pulling into a parking lot where she tried to calm down. She was terrified. Her attempt to be 'normal' again had failed. She couldn't even make it through a simple conversation with a Zoe without nearly having a panic attack. Was this what her life really had become? Was this what it was going to be like for the rest of her life? Her eyes drifted to her bag and it occurred to her that there was a way to make it stop. The gun was safely tucked inside the bag with a full clip in a separate pocket – it would be easy. Renee tore her eyes from the bag and shifted the car back to drive. There was a police station a couple blocks away; she'd get rid of the gun and hopefully those thoughts would do the same.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm going to be honest. I don't know if I'll finish this, but I have a few chapters written, so I'm uploading in case anyone still has interest. Thank you for anyone who reads and I appreciate feedback.

* * *

**April 2014 – Three Weeks before Day 8**

Zoe darted through CTU's hallways toward the 'public' entrance. She had been in the middle of her weekly combat training with her team when she had received an urgent page that a Cecilia C. Lloyd was demanding to see her. She arrived to find Citrine, dressed in an impeccable Chanel suit, and her driver standing in front of a very annoyed looking Chloe.

"There you are," Citrine said in place of a greeting. "I have been waiting here for the last ten minutes dealing with this nonsense," she continued, waving her hand dismissively at Chloe who responded by blatantly rolling her eyes in annoyance.

"It's called security. This is CTU, not Bendel's."

"There is still a thing called common courtesy." She paused to look Zoe up and down. "And there's such a thing as making yourself presentable."

"I was in the middle of training." She self-consciously smoothed back the slightly-damp hair that had escaped her ponytail, before continuing, "What are you doing here?"

"You haven't returned my calls."

"I've been working."

"Look, dear," she said with an icy tone. "I am doing you a favor by handling the details of your wedding, so have the decency to acknowledge my existence."

Zoe forced a contrite smile to her face. "I apologize. I'll be more attentive in the future."

"That's all I ask," she said with a sigh. "The baker needs to know your cake choice. Can you be bothered to taste the samples and give her a call by the end of business today?"

"I'll get it done."

"Good." Citrine signaled for the driver to hand the large bakery box to Chloe. "Call me tonight with your decision, hm?"

"Of course."

She stepped forward and leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek, "And do find time to shower."

"I'll try."

"You should," she said before turning to leave with her driver.

Once they were gone, Zoe turned to Chloe and apologized, "I am so sorry about that?"

"That your mother?" she asked. Despite all of her demanding, the woman had never once bothered to explain her relationship to Zoe.

"Dear God no," she said instinctively. "My fiancé's." She took the box from Chloe and started walking back towards the main part of CTU. "And, for the record, he is nothing like Citrine."

"Citrine?" Chloe asked. "Her ID said Cecilia."

"Her first name, and her daughter's, mother's, and grandmother's," she listed while rolling her eyes.

"There's four of them?"

"The original Cecilia passed away a few years ago, but we still have CeCe, Citrine, and Sissy," Zoe explained. "I really am so sorry you had to deal with any of them."

"Me too."

"Please let me make it up to you with cake for lunch."

"I…"

"It's really good cake – it's from Ruth Drennan's bakery, which Citrine insists is the best."

"Uh, okay."

"I need to shower, but we can meet in a conference room in fifteen?"

"I'll find a room that's empty."

"I'll bring the cake."

Twenty- minutes later, Zoe sat opposite Chloe with an array of partially eaten cake pieces spread out on the table between them. "Okay, which is your favorite?" Zoe asked.

"Number four," Chloe said automatically.

"Same here," Zoe agreed. She grabbed the sealed envelope with the words 'open after tasting' written across the front in Citrine's delicate script. Ripping it open, she pulled out the sheet and scanned the first page to find name of the cake.

"Number four is the hazelnut-almond cake with chocolate ganache, and raspberries." Zoe read, circling her choice before flipping it to the next page. As she read it she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"What?" Chloe asked and Zoe responded by tossing the note across the table.

_Zoe,_

_Please let me know if you have made your decision regarding your bridal party. It hardly is fair to Sissy for you still to have not made up your mind._

_Citrine_

When she finished reading, she asked, "When's the wedding?"

"About six weeks."

"And you still don't know your bridal party?"

"God, you sound like her."

"Sorry – that's not what I meant," Chloe apologized stiffly. "It's just – don't you have to get dresses and stuff?"

"I have the dresses and Citrine's tailor will do the fittings whenever I ask, but that's not the problem."

"What? Your friends hate you?" she asked; her tone serious.

"No." Zoe shot her a wry smile. "But my sister kind of does."

"You don't have a sister," Chloe said abruptly. "Your file said you had two brothers."

"You read my file?"

"It's my job."

"Right, I forgot." Zoe paused a moment before continuing, "I was adopted. She's ten years older than me and we were split up when our parents died. I only found out about her a year ago."

"She didn't want to see you?" Chloe guessed.

"Sort of – um, we tried for a while, but it didn't really work out." She shook her head slightly as she continued, "We haven't spoken in months, but I keep writing even though she never writes back. Carson says that she's the reason I can't get into the wedding planning, because if I do it means I've accepted she won't be there."

"He's probably right."

"I know," Zoe agreed with a sigh. "But whatever," she shrugged it off and changed the subject. "So, how'd your first week go?"

"It was fine – there have been a lot of changes to the system."

"I felt like I was in a whole new country when I transferred from the Bureau."

"But you've settled in."

"Mostly, but Hastings still treats me like a new recruit despite my experience as a Field Agent. If it wasn't for Cole I'd never get into the field, let alone head up a team."

"So you don't like Hastings," Chloe summarized

"Mr. Hastings is my boss," she said as she primly folded her hands on the tabletop. "But I don't agree with all of his decisions – his priorities seem a little skewed sometimes. It's probably just me,"

"Or not."

"Thanks," she said with a smirk. She leaned forward conspiratorially as she continued, "So who here drives you crazy? And you don't get to say Arlo, because that's a given."

"How did he get hired?"

"He knows his stuff." Zoe paused before adding, "Even if he's an ass with no concept of sexual harassment."

"Yeah."

"He's harmless though," she said with a shrug. "What do you think of Dana?"

"She's all right."

"Liar – you don't like her." Chloe began to ask how Zoe knew she was lying, but Zoe continued before she could form the words, "It's okay – she gets on my nerves too."

"But you're friends with Cole and they're engaged."

"He's engaged to her – I'm not," she quipped. "We get along fine enough and Carson and I have double-dated with them a few times, but there's something about her that just rubs me the wrong way."

"Superiority complex."

"Exactly! One of my majors at GW was in computer science, so when something comes up here I usually have a pretty good idea of what's going on. I'll be the first to admit that I'm no expert, but any time Dana sees me by a computer, she treats me like a five year old. She's just so condescending."

"Right."

"Ugh, I'm sorry I turned this into a rant session. I really don't hate it here, and some of the people are great. Emma in the armory is hilarious and Dave in reception makes these amazing scones. I'll get him to add you to his list."

"List?"

"He only bakes for a select group of people, but I can get you in."

* * *

**May 2009 – 3 years, 10 months before Day 7**

Renee had a pattern on Sundays. She woke early and went for a run, after which she returned home, showered, and went to her favorite coffee shop. It was one of those places where you could sit for hours. The first time it had felt weird to sit alone with a book with non where to go and no one watching her.

When she had been undercover, Vladimir had insisted she have a drive for her protection. He told her "a woman in their line of work should not be out hailing a cab—especially one as beautiful as her." The real reason was that he wanted to know where she was at all times and with whom. That had been the first concrete sign—the tangible proof of just how obsessive he had become. But that was in the past. Vladimir Laitanan was gone and Renee Zadan was too. She was Agent Walker, who could spend hours reading in a D.C. cafe without anyone monitoring what she was doing.

Renee ordered coffee and a muffin and headed to her usual table but was surprised to find it occupied. She was even more surprised when she recognized the girl seated there.

"Zoe?"

"Agent Walker," she said in surprise.

"Renee, remember?"

"Right." Zoe closed a textbook to make room at the table and asked, "Do you want to join me?"

"I don't want to keep you from …" she trailed off as she read the title of the book. "History of American Foreign Policy Since World War II."

"I could use a break."

Renee set down the plate and sat down. "So when's the final?"

"Tuesday?"

"Last one?" Renee guessed. She and Zoe had exchanged a few emails since the retreat, so she had a vague sense of the girl's schedule.

"Yes."

"Is that why you're studying so far from campus? You got burned out at the other places?"

"Not exactly. My favorite coffee shop is overrun with students and their moms."

It took Renee a second to consider the date before it hit her. "Mother's Day."

"Mmhmm."

"Your mom couldn't come in?"

"She died when I was ten," Zoe said bluntly. "It was breast cancer."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks. Um, normally my dad, brothers and I make her favorites for breakfast and then go to the cemetery, but it's just too hard to manage with my exams."

"What were her favorites?"

"Omelet with spinach, feta cheese, and olives, but I always make mine without the olives."

"You don't like them?"

"I know I should—being Greek and all—but I just don't like them."

"Neither did my mom," Renee said without thinking. It's not that she couldn't talk about her mother, it's just that she preferred not to, but her conversation with Zoe reminded her of Kathy Walker picking the olives off a slice of pizza and putting them on Renee's slice."

"Is she…?"

"Car accident—I was twelve."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

"Kind of makes Mother's Day suck."

"Yeah," Renee agreed with a laugh.

"So do you and your dad have any special traditions?"

"He was in the car."

"Sorry, that really sucks."

Renee could tell that Zoe was getting uncomfortable, so she added quickly, "It wasn't like I was little orphan Annie or anything. It was hard, but I was placed with a good foster family, so I got through it."

"You weren't adopted?"

She heard the social worker's voice in her head as she said, "I was too old."

"Oh," Zoe paused a beat before continuing, "I was adopted."

"How old were you?"

"A little before my second birthday," she said. "I don't remember my birth parents. I don't know anything about them."

"Do you want to?"

"Sometimes, but it's more of a curiosity, you know? Like what if my birth mom's alive and living somewhere awesome like Paris or my birthfather won the lotto or something." Zoe laughed at herself before becoming serious. "Or they're dead too."

"So it's easier not knowing," Renee concluded.

"Yeah."

"You know what? Let's get out of here."

"But you haven't finished your muffin."

"I'm hungry for more than a muffin. I know a place that makes killer omelets."

* * *

**May 2014 – Day 8, 7:00-8:00pm**

"Chloe!"

Chloe stopped outside the elevators when Zoe called her name. "Hey."

"Is it true that Dana called in Renee to brief us on the Russians?"

"Yeah." Chloe stepped into the elevator and Zoe followed. "Her chopper's about to land."

Zoe leaned back against the wall of the elevator. "She's really coming."

"Have you spoken to her since…?" she trailed off as she pressed in the code to take them up to the helipad. Chloe knew that Jack hadn't, but from what she remembered Zoe and Renee used to be close.

"Um, yeah."

"You have?"

"Remember when I told you I had a falling out with my sister?"

"Yeah, why?" Chloe furrowed her eyebrows before it hit her. "Renee?"

"Yes."

"That's weird," she said the first thing that came to mind.

"I know."

"You don't really look alike either. I mean, you both have freckles and the same build, but…"

"I know," Zoe interrupted. "But we are.

The elevator doors open and Chloe got off, but the other woman didn't move. "You coming?"

"No – she's made it clear that she doesn't want to see me. Don't tell her I'm here."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You sound like Jack."

"Well, she won't want to see me either. So, don't tell her, okay?"

"Fine."


End file.
